


This world is not made for you

by purple_cube



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 07:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1296835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_cube/pseuds/purple_cube
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the rooftop before the Quarter Quell, Katniss confesses to what was real and what wasn't during their first Games.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This world is not made for you

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Let's Make Out II comment ficathon at LJ comm ivoryandgold run by finkpishnets, using the prompt "run boy run! Running is a victory".

 

The balmy afternoon turns cool as the sun sets, but they don't notice as they watch the spectacle for what may be the final time. This rooftop has become their sanctuary in more ways than one, and she knows he doesn’t want to leave it any more than she does.  
  
“I can see why it’s your favorite color,” Katniss says softly as the shimmering oranges begin to fade.  
  
Peeta flashes a quick grin in her direction, before returning his attention to the horizon.  
  
He finally breaks the silence when the last slither of sunlight has fallen. “You know, this may be one of the few times you and I have left where we can have a conversation that isn’t going to be recorded.”  
  
“That’s true,” she says faintly, wondering where this is heading.  
  
“When we went home after the last time,” he begins, sinking her stomach almost immediately, “You said that not all of it was an act. I started to ask how much of it was true, but then I changed my mind.”  
  
She remembers. An expression that pained is pretty difficult to forget.  
  
“So…how much of what you said and did was true?”  
  
She takes her time to untangle her thoughts. What she had said and done during the Games, well, they had both already agreed that her actions then were intended to keep them both alive. And in their victory interview, too.  
  
 _Although_. “I meant it when I said that I wanted to put you somewhere you couldn’t get hurt.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
She smiles softly as her gaze drifts across to where they had sat a year earlier. “Because you did it. You showed them that they couldn’t change you. You _weren’t_ just a piece in their Games.”  
  
“And look where that got us.” There isn’t any bitterness, but there is a hint of bleakness in his voice that tugs at her.  
  
“We didn’t know it would lead to this. We couldn’t have known.”  
  
He seems lost in his own thoughts again. Her shoulders slump; this is exactly what she had wanted to avoid on one of their final nights of freedom.  
  
“One of the kisses was real,” she says after a long while.  
  
From the corner of her eye she can see his head jerk up.  
  
“Which one?” he asks curiously, and she’s relieved that his response isn’t disappointment at there only being one.  
  
“After I came back to the cave with your medicine. Before my head started bleeding.”  
  
“I remember.”  
  
“It made me want more.” It comes out as a whisper, and she isn’t sure that he hears it above the sound of the wind.  
  
When she turns to him, it’s clear that he did.  
  
He twists his torso to face her, one palm lying flat on the floor behind her. The other hand reaches up to cup her cheek, and she thinks dimly that he hasn’t done this since the Victory Tour. Shifting his weight, he leans into the kiss at the same time as she does, their mouths coming together in a much clumsier fashion than they usually do on screen.  
  
She likes it, thinks it seems more real.  
  
The kiss is also more like the ones from the cave, back when they were both naïve sixteen year olds, and nothing like the staged kisses of late, with Snow’s threats hanging over them.  
  
“Sorry,” he mutters when he pulls away.  
  
She sighs, hating that he feels that he should apologize for this.  
  
“Don’t be,” she says boldly. “I kissed you back didn’t I?”  
  
“You always kiss me back,” he replies, though with enough humor to dilute any lingering resentment.  
  
And maybe it’s anger at his words, or maybe it’s newly found bravery in the face of the looming Games, but _something_ compels her to reach for him. To clutch his shirt tightly in her fist and pull him to her with all the strength she has. He crashes into her, propelling both of them from their seated positions until her back hits the hard concrete floor with a thud.  
  
Before he can second-guess her actions, she’s pulling at him again until his lips drop onto hers. She kisses him the way she has wanted to in recent days, not through any sense of obligation, but through a genuine desire for more. Peeta freezes for a moment, hovering stiffly above her. But then he responds, sinking his body onto hers and tucking his hand behind the back of her neck to tilt her mouth closer to his. The kiss seems to go on far longer than she ever thought possible.  
  
“No cameras here,” she whispers breathlessly when he finally pulls away.  
  
Understanding comes slowly, judging by how long it takes for his smile to form. “No cameras,” he repeats before lowering his mouth onto hers again.

 


End file.
